Book Of Life: The Legend of Luis Posada
by A.Hill.Dweller
Summary: Luis Posada, the little brother of Maria, always held a place in his father's eye for being the only son. How will he react in the craziness that is San Angel, or the drama of his sister's love triangle?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

San Angel. A town of not so many mysteries. A glimmering ruby of civilization amongst the wasteland of barbarism. I, Luis Posada II, have never been to anywhere else that has been as civilized or as full of life as this town.

On the other hand, I have never left this town in my entire sixteen year old journey that consists of my life. What wasn't perfect? In comparison to the industrial cesspool Miracle City, San Angel had everything. Clean air that was filled with the scent of freshly baked tortillas and seasonally, with the magnificent aromas of fruit pies. Good people who'd do anything to help you and knew your name. And music and bullfighting that could touch the soul. Today was a great day, and nothing could ever spoil that.

I took a nice stroll through the central plaza and covered my ears , rolled my eyes at the uproarious music, and groaned with a scowl. It wasn't the gentle Blues or even the classics. It was Mariachi music. To my extreme displeasure, it was Manolo and his mariachi band of fat bloated losers called the Rodriguez brothers.

Besides all wearing red hats and red overcoats, the brothers couldn't have looked even more distinct.

Pepe, the most rotund man of the group, was on the violin. Clean shaven save for the pathetic scruff he called a mustache, his red overcoat only covered up to just barely above where his white buttoned down shirt miraculously held his bulbous belly like a bag protruding over his belt. The second largest brother, Pancho, had a scruffy beard and a belly proportionate to his own height, but enjoyed playing the trumpet most out of all the other instruments. He was probably the only one I could stand out of the trio. We stopped talking to each other when I offered him to quit the band so I could give him a better opportunity. We argued and then he stormed off. The _nerve. _

The youngest brother, as well as the shortest was named Pablo. He played the tololoche. From a distance, he looked indistinguishable from a ball. I didn't know much about him over than the fact that neither of us were much in the speaking mood every time we interacted. He caught sight of me and briefly stopped playing, only eyeing with frustration and hurt. I sighed and covered back my hood, and the brother began playing anew on the instrument, undeterred by my presence. _One of the pleasures of being a Posada._ I sarcastically sighed.

It was then I caught wind of the song Manolo was singing and I snapped. _How dare he sing about my sister? _It wasn't some paranoid delusion I had. Both Manolo and Joaquin both wanted to vie their love to Maria when she came back. But I loved Joaquin more. And I wasn't going to let anyone ruin that dream of mine. Not even if those cowardly balls of mass could stop me. I would protect my sister. I'll always protect her.

_"I'll be there, I'll be there…For you!_

_I''ll Be there, I'll be there for you—"_ . Readying with my right hand at the hilt, I pulled away my hood. And as soon as the other brothers and Manolo recognized my mug, the music drawn to an abrupt end. I quickly pursed my lips, grinning victoriously at their pathetic capitulation. Manolo and his brothers just stared back, while the crowd gasped as they all each recognized who I really was, with gasps abound. I heard chatterings and whispers, but I quickly turned around to face them and glared contemptuously. How dare they take about me. And like that, they dispersed, scampering not unlike rats at the sight of a cat. Like most commoner peasants. However, unfortunately to my liking, the Mariachi band stood there strong. Still resilient. And that made me furious. A collective of four rebels.

I frowned "I hope she doesn't. You're creepy. Shouldn't you be getting to bullfighting like every other Sanchez? " I turned around to witness a man in a green bullfighter suit look downwards on me. Sr. Sanchez cast a look of stark disapproval and I glared in turn.

"Did you _just_ call my son creepy?"

"He belongs in the ring." I snarled back, then I snidely added. "Unfortunately, the laws don't forbid freedom of expression, even if its _uncultured_ and _unbecoming _of civilized folk. I'm leaving."

I started to walk away towards home and turned my back to the Sanchez men and the pathetic Rodriguez brothers. I felt him grab my right arm and I tried shaking it off. But like anything, being a teenager on the cusp of manhood has its detractors.

One of them is being weaker to wary retired bullfighter. Señor Sanchez's strong grip held my arms as if it went limp from a snake bite. All of my attempts to wriggle out of his grip angered me, but it all goes to that inevitable fact. And in that, I'd lost this battle.

"You don't talk that way to me, mijo!"

I looked in his eyes with confusion "What did you call me Señor?" He kept ahold of my arm, however, as I tried to shrug it off to no avail. I panicked. " LET ME GO!"

"You're not getting away." To my sheer joy, my two guards approached Mr. Sanchez. They were tall, thin shrimp-like men who were guards. But unlike the guards I enjoyed when I was a child, they were mostly for show. They both had nearly identical features and both worn veteran's uniforms. There were other guards available, but at this point of time in my life, they were mostly as retired as my General Papi.

Their combined lack of actual fighting experience , indicative from their time as soldiers who only served without war, showed them with a lack of training and discipline. And due to the lack of actual talent bursting from the bustling town, they only were accepted because they were the default. Because there wasn't a real war, they alongside my family, the Posada family, stood tall and unchallenged over the citizenry of San Angel.

To most people in the town, I was a prince that was destined to become a great general like my father before me. And I enjoyed that privilege. So much so , as that I had these guards at my beck and call to do my bidding.

"Let go of Master Luis, Sanchez!" The one guard shouted , his right hand right on the hilt of his rapier. Mr Sanchez, on the other hand , held his hand behind his back to grab his own. Before Mr. Sanchez could manage to draw out his sword from the hilt, the second guard stepped up and already held his own rapier's tip towards the right hand he held me under.

"I'll make an example out of you!" Reluctantly , the elder Sanchez let go of my arm, but he still held a firm look of disapproval, only now focusing on chiding Manolo and his double life with other losers.

I personally don't mind it. In fact, Manolo and the Rodriguez brothers are a perfect match for each other. I quickly envisioned what Manolo would look like if he fell completely into their lifestyle. He would be as round as Pepe, barely able to run without breaking a sweat. And as if important people, my Papi, now distaste Manolo. He'd be a fat rat scampering desperately as an outcast, scorned as the disgrace of the Sanchez line of bullfighters.

That's why I couldn't help but laugh tauntingly towards Señor Snachez, who turned his head so fast I could've sworn it snapped like like a whip. The soldiers didn't pay any heed to the lowly loser, however. And neither did I, as I was being escorted back to General Posada's mansion. My _father's _mansion at that. We were walking back home and the one guard patted my shoulder with ride in his eyes. His name is Carlos, like Señor Sanchez, but he had a nice sadistic streak and let me do whatever I wanted.

"I'm glad you taunted those band of losers." Carlos smirked with smarminess and returned the expression with my own smarmier smile. "These Sanchez need to be put in their place."

"It's not that." I sighed. "I hate anyone creeping on mi hermana. There are much better men for her. If only Joaquin was back here."

"It's all being set up, Master Luis." The guard to my right smirked. I never could remember his name, so I call him Dos. "You haven't written to her? Your father's been steaming about it."

"Wonder why I've been out today?" I huffed. For the past few years, my father has been cracking down on Carlos's lies. He discovered, to his own disapproval that I faked sending letters to my sister Maria. And that was only _after _she wrote to him about that. Considering Maria virtually stopped writing to our father for obvious reasons, I wasn't the least surprised in that it took so long.

"It isn't like I'm not undergoing military training to be like father. _That_ should be enough."

"Then you don't know your Papa well enough." The second guard added."

It wasn't much of a day , but I could get from earshot as Carlos bit into Manolo over his musician act and I chuckled. Though I felt a pang of guilt. Why do I have this guilt?

I used to be friends with that loser.

_When I was four years old. We were all standing at the train station. I was hiding right behind Papi's leg while I peeked at Manolo, the pig and Joaquin. The nuns were singing goodbyes to my sister, but I remained shy. _

_"Adios, mijita!" Papi said as Maria hugged him, then she looked down to me, her eyes watering into mine. I walked from behind Papi and embraced her as hard as I could. _

_"I'll miss you, Luis." I didn't say anything, but she held me tight. "You're getting stronger, little bro."_

_"I am?"_

_Our Papi, the great General Posada noticed the two other dweebs standing by the wooden train station bench . Joaquin, the boy that loved to pretend to be a military fighter, and Manolo , son of the amazing bullfighter Carlos Sanchez. Unable to hold in his grief Papi excused himself and left us alone together._

_Maria hurried to her friends and I trailed behind her. "I'm going to miss you guys." She told us. _

_"We'll be here waiting."Joaquin said. _

_"As long as it takes. " Manolo added. _

_Maria hugged Joaquin then told Manolo never to stop playing his music, then pointed at his chest and something something's right. I don't remember much. I was four at the time. Then Manolo handed Maria a box with holes on the top. She opened it, and smiled. I looked at it and it was the pink piglet. _

_"Wait a second. We were supposed to bring gifts?" Joaquin questioned, stunned. We both had nothing of value to give her. My sister lifted the pig out of the box and snuggled with it. _

_"Oh. I remember you." _

_"I figured you needed a little part of town to go with you." Manolo replied._

_"Thank you." Joaquin complained, and Maria turned to him._

_"Seriously, no one told me about bringing gifts." _

_"Can you hold Chuy for me?" My sister then picked up another box, ornately designed, and handed it to Manolo. "This is to make up for breaking your guitar."_

_The train's whistle blew and our eyes went wide. She was really leaving. Maria took the piglet , unable to turn her head and look back at us._

_"I gotta go. This is my brother, Luis."_

_"Hi Luis."_

_'Hi…" I shyly said. _

_"Don't forget me." She hurried towards the train, and the wind blew off her bonnet, which landed on the train station platform. _

_'Maria! Your bonnet!" Joaquin ran by the train. Meanwhile, Manolo knelt on the ground and finally opened the box. It was the same guitar, but unlike before, it had a message engraved on it. It was repaired. "You're her brother?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"It's nice to meet you. How about you wait right over there?"_

_He went to run by her train compartment. Both boys ran next to the train and I waited. I couldn't keep up with them, but they couldn't keep up with the train as it passed them by. They both walked back to the train station and I followed Joaquin and Manolo down the flights of stairs on the hill._

_"Bye, Joaquin!"_

_'Bye, Manolo!" Joaquin looked at me with admiration and ruffled my hair up. "I'll keep you safe, Luis. I promise."_

_I nodded back as I grabbed his hand. "Ok, big brother." He looked back with a smile as we both headed back home._

_The guards surrounded us both as we made our way home. I didn't know why. But they always surrounded me whenever I went anywhere. They could even open up the door._

_'Mijo, Joaquin will be staying with us. You're both going to be trained by me."_

_"I am?" I squeaked. It was the best moment of my life. My Papi was going to finally train me. And with my brother nonetheless. I ran up to Papi who held me in the air and then embraced me. "Papi…"_

_ "Mijito…go up to bed right away." He ordered with a smile. "Buenos noches.'_

_I ran up the stairs and gotten ready for bed. My nanny already had gotten out my pajamas, and after I changed , I jumped on the bed and rushed under the covers. I began crying. _

I was the reason why I got my older sister sent away to some boarding school in Europa. And because I did, for the first time in my life, I felt truly alone.

I truly blew my chance to become the fourth amigo. But in the process? Papa focused every single energy on me and Joaquin, and he looked at me with favor. He never really checked if I did send those letters probably for the same reason he is unusually lax with me. I was the youngest and only son.

Personally? I had more important things to do. Like learn how to fight, create weapons of my own making and learning the delicate art of leadership. Father didn't care what I did outside of training because he not only knew, but _trusted, _ that whatever I did work on was typically towards my military career. That which I excelled.

Sometimes, though. I wondered why he was more exhausted when it came to my training or learning. And he loved the music I played from the ocarina, as well as from the harmonica he personally bought and taught me how to use when I was 11.

* * *

**Posada Villa **

**5 PM, Afternoon**

**October 31**

We made it back to the mansion well enough for dinner. The soldiers went back home and we were basically left alone together.

"Your military training es going well through…."General Posada sighed. "She's been wondering why you haven't wrote to her."

I was about to counter with a line such as "This makes no sense! She must be lying." But I knew better than to lie to him. I was caught. And what I was basically taught by my father? Take your punishment like a man and own up to it. Instead, I had an idea, then sighed I na bored fashion.

"She's coming in a few days. We have all the time in the world!"

Papi disagreed and shook his left hooked hand. There's a nice story behind it. He lost his left arm when I was only two. When our mama got killed from one of Chakal's raids on San Angel, only managing to save Maria and I . Papi told me how she loved holding and singing to me, but it was always that sore point. That proverbial itching sore on my back which drove everything I did. Even if I became his literal duplicate, even down to his hunched back, hook hand and huge white curling mustache, he would _still _find something about me that was wrong.

"That's not acceptable!" He snapped back, waving his hooked hand about. "Maria misses you and you've been a terrible brother…and son." He sighed. "For all these years, you've been tricking me." I was downright insulted by that assertion. That I was somehow a terrible son because I didn't care to write to her? Maybe terrible sibling, and I wouldn't rial against any of that reasoning, but terrible son? What _right _did he have to say I was deficient as his only male born?

"I thought we made this clear, General." I coldly stated back. "Joaquin's your son. If you really love him, why don't you just adopt him already? Any training I do is meaningless."

"I jus' want you to write her, mijo." He countered, his patience waning. " Is that so difficult?" Unfortunately for him, my patience was waning as well.

"When your father is a has-been general who leads an ensemble of four men, three of whom are about as competent as that rock. It's very easy to see why you instantly fall for him." By the time I finally got to listen to my own words, I felt like I crossed the Rio Grande. For good or for mostly ill, there was no turning back.

"_Has-been?" _Papi croaked, voice cracking in abrupt shock. "I…never…" He gasped ,wheezing in abrupt horror. "Thought mi mijo thought…" He then grabbed another swig of his drink. This time I didn't smell the scent of alcohol on his breath That's all he did anymore, since we've been at odds with each other for the past year. We live close to each other and tolerate the other person, but I was beyond the point of no return. I lost respect for my father. I virtually train myself because he's two slow and old to show me anything.

"Of course. If it wasn't for me, this town would be defenseless!"

"Your brother is coming." I had to contradict father. General Posada literally worshipped at the boy's feet. Even if Joaquin was my brother in all but name, because he wanted Maria to actually _marry _the man without being given creepy stares and alluding to incest, I'm very sure in my opinion that it is incest. Maybe not by blood, of course. But we were raised together, them by far the longest. Joaquin would always be invited over the house , and he'd have the guest room since he had no home of his own. I still look back to those times Joaquin would hoist me on his back and I'd piggyback ride when I was 7. Or when he taught me how to use a sword and fighting basics back when I turned 10. Honestly? I loved the idea that my spiritual brother would marry my sister. But still, I really hated father right now, so I smirked with delight.

"It makes that disgusting freak Manolo look marginally better." The way I pointed it out made the General eye me with incredulity. Like I somehow blasphemed against the family. I wasn't going to give him any kind of ammo. "If he wasn't such a creepy freak singing for my sister."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"I'd soon die at the hands of Chakal before I tell that wretched man she came to town." Papa's face brightened with pride at my response. I'm not so sure Father would be happy if he knew I summoned a host of demons with their other sons of prominent families while under the influence of this new substance called cocaine. But that's just a fact that will stay between me and my God. But who said that I was worshipping _the _God the masses worshipped on Sundays?

Nonetheless, our occult group all preferred worshipping Xibalba anyways.

Suddenly, Father got serious and pointed his hooked arm at me accusingly.

"I heard you picked a fight today with the father?"

"Si?" I tried playing dumb. Of course I had to choose the most pressing matter of the day as _the reason_ to play dumb. And he frowned with disappointment. Maybe he was right? Maybe I am not being a good son to him right now? But screw that. I loved dragging those mariachis to my level.

Father sadly eyed me. "I respect him. His mijo's one thing, but Carlos? He es respectable bullfighter." Before I could attempt to lie down bored at one of his rants why this plebe was one of the pillars of the San Angel community, he slammed his hooked hand down on the table, its clangs jolting me out of nice brutal daydream.

"I was just envisioning unleashing several bulls at Manolo at once!" The old man's face twisted into a dark smirk, which matched mine. To be honest, I made that all up. I was hoping that I'd be able to use my father's sadistic fantasies of a gored Manolo Sanchez to get him on better terms, but his frown worsened until he began shaking. My plan just like the last, fell flat on its face. Strike 2.

"Don't get me distracted." His voice boomed, immediately silencing the entire banquet room. "Why haven't you written to Maria?" I sighed, then collected all my thoughts once more and just let them slip out. Truth be told, I first felt guilty about ratting out my sister and her friends to my guards. Then making their run of the pigs even worse than they envisioned. But the other reason mainly was because I sucked at writing. Father admittedly did his darnedest to teach me proper formal forms and even grammar, it just always came out like William the Bloody's terrible poetry. And yes, there really is an idiot who calls himself that. I actually thought for a second that William's name came from a dark and evil place.

Now I know why Father gave that poetry book to me. It was terrible because it lamest made my eyes bleed.

"I can't. So I stopped trying. " I truthfully sighed with a sad glint in my eye.

"Mijo….' He reached his clawed arm over the table to put on top of mine. "I don't. Your letters don't have to sound that elegant. Want to consider bullfighting still?"

"Can't now. But why do that?" I half lied. I _loved _bullfighting since Papi took me to a match on my 7th birthday. It was a celebratory match dedicated to me from the grand matador himself, Carlos Sanchez. What kid can really say that they had a torero match dedicated to you? Especially a Sanchez bullfighter that came out of retirement to defeat and slay seven bulls at once. Afterwards, I summoned enough courage to meet Señor Sanchez. From that day forward until some time ago, Carlos was my childhood hero that I wanted to emulate.

And since the town was basically safe from Chakal's army for the longest time, Papi allowed me to try some training sessions to see if I'd become the first Posada bullfighter in the family's history. For a while, he was ecstatic by the news I gave him.

Ultimately, I learned that some things are just not meant to be. Sr. Sanchez refused to train me even more, and that was that. So since then, I focused every inch of my soul and being to becoming a military man.

Father sighed with relief."I'm not sure if I can stand seeing you get killed…"I only groaned, which just cemented the sternness the old general showed me. "You can do _so much more _with your skills. It'd be different if you were the eldest son, but only as a hobby. A bullfighter is not a sustainable career—"

"—A sustainable career path." I finished. "I know, Papi. I can feel the fire rushing from the pulsation of the ring. I just can't feel it as some."

"Being a military hero is not about constant 's about protecting those you love."

"Maria's a better military leader."

"She wouldn't be able to do it. Maria's your sister!" I frowned and glared at him.

"She could if you gave her a chance. Maria's a natural born leader."

Papi frowned once more, unconvinced. "You'll _see _when she comes back. Maria'll be a proper lady Ladies _don't _lead militaries. I wouldn't want her to get hurt." He stated with a stirring of sadness in his voice. "Didn't stop me from making you a decent soldier." He smirked back. "I was barely a natural when I joined the ranks. It was all hard work and I earned it." Papi hobbled to my side of the table, and kept becoming out of breath until he finally got over behind my chair and hugged me and shown me the hook . "This hook I got here…es proof."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Please call me father….." He muttered back, then paused. "I love you…." He cried like he always did, which is odd. I never felt like crying and he just cries on some whim. It annoyed me how he always broke into tears, especially when I usually was the one causing it. And honestly, he did not deserve me doing this to him.

Papi smiled. "You remind me so much of your mother. I'm proud you're my son…" My voice cracked and I felt a wave of realization slam me right in the face.

"You…are?" The old general flaked at the suggestion and sobbed a little, and I managed to sniffle a little bit of tears. And I tried to hide it. The General , however, looked over my shoulders and hugged me again, unconvinced.

"Mi mijo…I…am sorry I didn't pay attention to your progress while you grew up…." He choked up, holding my chin with his hook, the metal being cold to the touch. "I used to cradle you with this hand, but l gave it up so you could be safe." Papi as genuine? It was strange, but he notably picked up from my feeling and hobbled back to the other side of the table, watching me intently while I ate the last of my dinner. "Have any of the girls appealed to you so far?"

Now he was pressing me on my dating prospects. On the bright side, he wasn't arranging a marriage with some generic pretty girl several states like in Oaxaca for status connections. But on the other hand? I really wish he did. Maybe find someone to my specifications.

None of the prominent women here appeal to me in the slightest as they all lack what made my sister so fascinating. Her take charge attitude, her matriarchal concern and loving embrace really felt like things I couldn't find in a typical woman educated to suppress their individual selves. Neither of the three women that Papi introduced me to seemed like they had anything going for them. Or maybe they didn't. It could be all that simple.

Maybe I did deserve a horrible wife for living a horrible life?

I simply replied "They all seem completely dull, Papi. "

Papi sharply disagreed. "Dull? What about the….black haired one?"

"See?" I pointed out. "You can't even remember her name."

"Si. You are right. But sooner or later, I want you to find a woman that will love you like your mother loved me." He sighed back with defeat and looked outwards towards the window. "Maybe I should've arranged you."

"It'd be far less difficult."

"I never was arranged, but I can see the practicalities of such an….arrangement?" He chuckled to himself for a few moments before returning his calmed gaze back. "No! I want you to find a woman yourself."

'Why can't my sister find her _own_?"

"She's your sister. And mi only mijita. Maria deserves the best man. And as much as you don't like hearing it, Joaquin would be the best. Just give him a chance." He glanced at the moon and he waved his hook dismissively. "The servants will get to your plate. It's getting late." He warmly advised. "I want you to be well-rested when your older sister comes into town."

"Buenos Noches." I replied,gently leaving the table and walking up the stairs

"Buenos Noches, mijo!" As I headed up the steps, I turned over to look at Papi. "One more thing! I'll tell you when you are in bed."

I felt my expression pick up.. But then sadly sighed. A story? He hasn't told me a bedtime story since I was 9, because he gave up on that.

"A story? Aren't I too old for that?" He wilted from my response, but he nevertheless smiled back.

"You no to old, for your papi's stories. You know that." He smiled warily. Get ready for bed, Luis!"

Once I got my pajamas on, I waited patiently in my room. It was the closest room to Papi's, and it was ours when Maria was home. Being as old as he was, Papi wanted us to be close as possible if we needed him during the night. And for most of my childhood until I was 10, I usually slept on a cot right beside Papi's mattress because I had night terrors. He never seemed to mind my closeness. In fact, he loved that I was closer to him than Maria was.

On the other hand It also had a practical reason that we'd wake up at the same time. To lessen the load on our servants by being more efficient. And for him to teach me procedure and prepare me for the life of a military hero.

If there is one thing I do honestly hate in this world, I hated patience. But Papi always had the knack for a great story and he always found a way to make me laugh or smile. Even if I was personally in the dumps.

I heard him slowly creep up the steps and I became giddier , as I could hear him trail into the room.

His cape was still hanging on his back and my overjoyed eyes lit his face with a prideful smile like any father, but then it faded.

"I need to talk to you. mijo about what you did today. I fired those guards." My mouth gaped with shock and horror while he arched an eyebrow,.

"What? They're my best friends!?"

"Mijo." He sternly replied. " They're a worse influence than Manolo. Because they've been teaching you wrong things about who we are. Who you're supposed to be." He sighed. "We get our authority because people respect us. And where do we get our respect from?" I tried to think about it, but my mind was muddied. Only one thought came to my mind. His expression saddened when it wasn't right away, but he waited.

"Overlording with our authority over the people?" I smiled like a jerk and it faded to a frown. Papi wasn't the least pleased by my response whatsoever.

"Do you know the only person who says that sort of thing?" He sharply questioned..

"Chakal?

"Chakal." He replied. "Chakal and his army bully people to do their bidding. You're not a bully. I hope not for our sake." My heart tinged with shame , but I still looked my Papi in the eye. He placed his hook hand on my chest. "To the people of San Angel ,we are heroes. Not bullies."

"But how am I supposed to stick up for my sister?"

"You're not sticking up for her. A real man knows how to walk away and ignore people who offends them." He advised gently. "I know you're a man. And I expect it. And it's why I find this important for you to know. I didn't feel I'd need to tell you until now."

"What is it?

* * *

**Sanchez Home **

**Night**

"The nerve! "Carlos , the retired bullfighters was pacing side-by-side. His grandmother Anita didn't pick her eyes from her sewing needles, but she could sense his movement. Ironically pacing back and forth, furiously like the bulls he killed in the ring.

"What are you going to do Carlos?" The elderly lady in the wheelchair interjected. "He's a Posada. They run the village."

Her son nodded away while Manolo came through the door. Once he seen his face with the guitar strapped around his back, the father didn't feel like he was in the mood to criticize his son's musical….passions? _Does passion sound like the word to say_? The weary bullfighter wondered to himself. He just was tired how Luis looked down on them like they were dirt. Like nothing they did or experienced _mattered._ Carlos looked into his son's eyes and grew ashamed. Not for his son, but for the boy.

"How are you holding up?"

"Just fine." Manolo lied. "Why'd you call him mijo?"

"I didn't mean anything of it."

"Si he did." The grandmother interrupted. "That Posada boy is your little brother."

"What?" Carlos glared back at his grandmother and frowned, only solidifying the fact to be true in the disgruntled guitarist's eyes. Manolo sat down at the table and was waiting to listen. Manolo's great grandmother glanced at both of her descendants before resuming her knitting. Carlos joined his son at the table and looked Manolo sternly in the eye.

"Is it true what you're saying?"

"Si ,_Mijo. _It is."

* * *

And there I was, baffled at the crushing blow of my life. That lowly loser's father is my father?

"What? I'm a Sanchez ,Papi? There must be a mistake. I can't be a son of that ogre! Or that fat potato sack in the making." Papi frowned at the first implication of calling Carlos, an honored bullfighter, an ogre. But definitely laughed in knowing on the latter. For the first time in three years , we both laughed our hearts out. Not to something actually funny, but at the expense of Manolo's inevitable future as a fat potato.

That , too, died down when he breathed back and sternly looked me in the eye. Papi was giving me his version of the serious look. The look consisted of just a slight twitch of his massive mustache and an arched right eyebrow. I calmed down and take heed of what he was going to say.

Papi looked deep into my eyes, his eyes watering a tad bit. "I never felt it was relevant." In my eyes, I'll always see you as a Posada. And no one can take it away from you."

"You mean? I could date Maria—" Why did _I have to say that?_ _I'm even worse than Joaquin. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid_… Papi eye with disgust and frowned.

"Of course not. That's your sister."

"Think about it, father. I'm a military guy in training, you've raised me my entire life, so you know who I am."

"That's _exactly _why I don't want you to consider it." He snapped. "Relax. You're going to find a woman hat loves you as much as we do. Just give it time."

"I'm like 13 and-"

"I didn't find your mother until I was in my 50's. It comes…." He wrapped his hook arm around my back as we basked and gazed under the Moon's light. "And sometimes, it goes like that." Papi snapped his fingers and glanced at the moon. "But as long as you find the person you love, it won't matter as long as you don't waste them." He advised, before looking again in my eyes. "Do you want to go to the cemetery tomorrow after she comes back?"

"And see my mothers? Sure, Papi.' I smiled then hugged him. "I just got a question. Does he know?"

* * *

**Casa Sanchez**

Manolo's eyes widened in shock, with mixed feelings of outrage and betrayal boiling within him. "Does my brother know?"

"He doesn't know." Carlos remarked. " And he shouldn't ever know. Even for all that he's done."

Carlos' grandmother darted her eyes away from her knitting and vehemently disagreed. "He's your son."

"I gave him up, mami. Unless he knows, I'd rather he have his own life."

"So I didn't."

"I didn't know what to do with him. Your mother just died and I couldn't take care of two sons." Carlos replied with regret and shame filling his voice at each octave. Manolo resigned with understanding but still angered at what the boy did to him earlier on. To Manolo, he was a coward that hid above on some throne and lorded everybody. And on the other hand, he held feelings of sadness, even pity all things…. Luis _was _his baby brother, after all. And despite everything he _has _done. Luis was still _family._ And family sticks together.

"Seeing how he took onto it… I still didn't feel right getting involved into his life."

* * *

**Villa Posada**

**Luis's Room **

"So he knew when I had that bullfighting phase?"

"He's always known. But I'm just leaving you with the possibility." He replied. "It's too much time for me to go through, though-."

"Just want you to know it changes nothing, Papi." I smiled. "I'm looking forward to tomorrow." With that said, he departed across the hall while I reclined back into bed. Then I noticed a chill, and went under the covers to fall asleep like a rock like always.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

On the following morning, I noticed a bright ray of light flash , my eyes snapped open. I could tell it was right a little after dawn. Most likely 8 AM. Papi and I never had breakfast together anyways anymore, so after I made the bed ,I got myself ready for the day. I walked down the winding steps and eyed , then greeted my new butlers slash guards. They were the same old men that used to guard us when Maria and I were children and, despite their worn appearances, were as sharp and chipper in their furnished pine green suits and red ties as they were back them, adorned with medals as Papi was on his own uniform.

However, the only difference was that Sr. Pereira to the right now looked like a short wrinkled mustachioed potato ,with his pants over his belly, way past his waist and not a belt in sight. Now opting for suspenders. Whereas, Sr. Lopes, the guard standing towards the left, had a hunched gait and a string-bean physique. Now with a snake leather belt constricting his pants to his wiry waist. Nevertheless I recognized them, aging and all and smiled.

"You remember us on a yearly basis." Sr. Pereira replied ,but my smile took his off guard. "But we remember you before you retired and—" I finished walked down the sitars and lunged at him with an embrace. "Señor Pereira!" He chuckled and embraced back. "Calm down Luis."

"I told you he did, Pascual!" The other guard smiled. "It's nice to know he still remembers us."

"How could I forget the two men who're basically my uncles?

Sr. Lopes smirked. "Uncles? You're trying to butter us up."

"I don't _believe _he'll need to butter me up more! My wife already does that for me!" Sr. Pereira chuckled, jollily patting his gut with delight. I laughed in turn and he glanced back. If there was one thing Sr. Pascual could do, he was the master of self depreciative humor. His face then became stern as I began walking towards the door.

"Where are you going, _nephew_?" Sr. Lopes asked. "And why are you wearing a cloak over your clothing?"

"I'm going to the market in low profile—'

" Your father wants you to stay here for breakfast. '

I disagreed and sighed. "I'm going out. I'll be fine—"

"Wait Luis!" Sr. Pereira rushed in front of the door, with a pant under his breath. "There's talk of Chakal's army coming here." He immediately realized with my wide smirk that he had opened up a floodgate. "No no no no no. NO!" Sr. Lopes ran over to the door to block it. "You're not ready to fight."

"Are you kidding me? How am I supposed to get experience if I'm holed up here?"

Sr. Lopes frowned. "You know exactly why."

"Really? You do?"

"We both do." For a second, I thought, fearing that somehow, Father told them my predicament. Then again, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing. On the other hand? Sr. Lopes is really a talker. "You're becoming a man. It's normal to want to do it." For a split second, my mind blew a fuse and my face flushed hot.

"_What?_" Sr. Pereira shook his head, then places his arm around my shoulder.

"That's _not _what we meant, nephew." I sighed with relief. "I wouldn't be calm yet. Those two punks your father hired as guards were terrible influences."

"Oh really?"

Sr. Pereira frowned. "You _know _what I mean. He wants you to stay home for a bit before you get back to training. Besides. It's going to be Dia de los Muertos in a few days, chico. You should relax." My mind went to a glum place. I couldn't help it. Over in that cemetery by the plaza, I had a mother to another name. I never knew of her, but Sr. Sanchez used to talk a ton about her to Manolo, especially while I was around, keeping the memory alive to him. Perhaps candidly hoping I was paying attention to it. That I would somehow get to know the woman without knowing her.

But honestly, it went over my head.

_We were both at his mother's grave. Manny cried a few tears while I stared at it. Unlike him, I felt nothing to it. It was just a concrete shrine among many that would fade. "My mama was amazing."_

_I bluntly replied "How'd I know? I wasn't born." I looked around and slingshot a bug flying about in the arena. He glanced at me with a frown. "Manny. I barely even know my own mom. Everyone says their moms are amazing, but that's until they just ditch and leave you. Like mine did."_

_Manny sympathetically eyed me. "You want to forget her?"_

"_I have. And she's not dead. I wish she stayed instead of writing me every so often from Spain. I already wrote her not to write me again. Just can't take that anymore."_

"_What if she goes?" Those four words held my mind in a vice grip." What if she did die?_

"_My Papi's there for me." I replied. "He's always been there." I placed a flower that I picked on her grave. "I heard she liked flowers."_

"_Thanks." Manolo hugged me and I let myself cry briefly, before I wiped the tears away. _

"_Dirt got in my eyes. Don't say anything different."_

"_I won't."_

Then, I frowned when I remembered her picture. She was beautiful. And I'd never know her. Why exactly? Because I killed her. Despite the Señors' looks of concern, I repressed those feelings once more. Why should I feel anything for her? I don't know her. I have no time to cling to my fantasies.

"So?"I rolled my eyes with disinterest. "I need to practice my fighting skills anyway—" Señor Lopes held a mix of tiredness and concern on his wrinkled brow, his lip sinking with a pout.

"You did it yesterday…with us." Señor Pascual noted, rubbing his sore back. "We're not a spry as we once were. And your father wants you here. If you're really sore about going out, we're at least tagging along."

I gave hi man annoyed expression. "So it's not an option?"

"After what the General told us? No. It isn't. We'll make sure to blend in like you. How does that sound?" I weighed my options, then sighed.

"Of course, uncles." I replied back. I was out of options. And to be honest, I want to actually have a day where I'm doing something decent for a change. Make Papi proud, as if that'll ever happen.

"The boy's a man now. Let him make mistakes—" The old general walked out in a proper suit tie and looked around the corner, holding two plates of eggs in both his hands with joy beaming from his eyes and bright smile.

"I heard my son came down here."

"General?"…until it wasn't. His shoulders slumped and the joy completely left General Posada's expression.

General Posada sighed. Where's mijo? I was going to make him breakfast!"

He shot the servants an unwavering stare , then the eggs fell out of his hands, the glass china shattering on the floor in its wake. "Not with the army coming towards us, he ain't!"'

"General!" The one guard cried. "Wait!"

General Posada ran quickly out of the door. "Can you please clean it up?

The old general thought to himself and was terrified. His son never fought in a real fight, and the last fight with Joaquin? He lost easily.

It brought a tear in his eye when his mind diverted to another possibility. But he knew the look Luis gave him last night. He hasn't seen the look of love from his son since their fight when he was 11. And General Posada felt ashamed. He came home drunk and instigated his son. By the following morning, Luis was nowhere to be seen. It was the defining moment where he truly felt like a fool. And he ran out of the house worriedly with energy that was atypical for his age. Despite every muscle rendered sore afterwards, General Posada found him sitting under the huge tree in front of town asleep. With streaks of dried up tears down the sides of his face, it jolted the General with enough strength that he carried Luis home and tucked him back to bed. And for the next year, he'd dedicate his entire life to his son and cut everything until he could manage to do it without binging and becoming _that monster _again. Luis was terrified of him, no doubt, and it weighed on the father's mind that his own flesh and blood was afraid of him.

It was the main event that caused General Posada to be much more involved. And in his own opinion, should have never happened in the first place. He was the only parent Luis knew and the kid unconditionally loved him as a hero. Oh how he loved his father's hook. Knowing him, the General reasoned, the boy was probably aimlessly scampering about San Angel as he usually did at this hour of the day before Luis came back at 8:30. Then he realized his two old friends weren't there either.

"They're going out with him" The General fondly remembered all the times his war buddies took the boy while he was training Joaquin. The way he progressed with his comrades how he emulated their good habits made the old father proud. It made his son punctual and mostly in line. In General Posada's eyes ,anything else, like his interest in bullfighting and designing instruments was irrelevant. He reasoned Luis's interest in bullfighting would get out of his system. And it did. There were a few moments that he tried to bring that back up, but overall, his son devoted his entire self to his training.

He was just blind to it. And that fact alone disturbed him. _No wonder he looked up to those punks I hired._ General Posada thought to himself. _They gave him everything he wanted. But not what he needed._

There was little doubt in his wise mind that the two were using the boy to curry favor with him. And considering how much the boy truly did look up to the two disgraced soldiers like older brothers, it furthermore disgusted him. By the time he had to recruit replacements for his friends, he rushed to get the closest options instead of investing his time with his son and waiting to ask for his friends' help. However, General Posada simply didn't want to bother their retirements, even if they both itched at a chance to help train his son. And now, he sighed with realization. Maybe he _should have _went to them for help.

Whether it was his creeping old age or being without his eldest daughter, General Posada worried about Jr as if he'd himself hurt. After he panted outside, the general turned back. _Maybe he should be allowed to make some mistakes._He thought to himself. _Mi mijo can handle himself well….. He is my flesh and blood… And not only that. He has the best uncles a boy could ask for._

At present, the General pondered if the boy _truly _appreciated Pascual and Jesus as well as he did. 

There I was , with my two butlers in less conspicuous clothing. Sr. Lopes' suggestion that we dress in less formal wear and having a different hairstyle worked wonders. We just wore their long sleeve shirts and ties, but I opted for no vest with grumbling under my breath.

"I've also came here to see my grandsons actually." Sr. Pereira replied.

"You're _their _grandfather?"

"I introduced you to them when you were 6. They're the kindest young men anyone could ask for. Even if their hunger for the best food _does _weigh them down." He then laughed to himself. "They must've gotten it from me! I don't get why you have to be so mean to them."

"If I can't use my desired forms to maintain authority…I'm confused."

"Ruling through fear never lasts. And picking on my grandchildrens isn't going to get you allies in this town. Like me."

Sr. Lopes chimed in ."Those thugs…I wish your father just _asked us…_ You're both very set in your ways. You can't afford it."

"Where are you shopping at, if you don't mind me asking?" Sr. Pereira politely asked.

"Getting some peaches and those words, their faces it up and they chuckled, while I blushed.

"It's sweet you are—" Sr. Lopes eyed the bakery across the street and he nudged his fellow guard.

"You're getting a gift for your sister? It's only a secret _when _she's coming." Sr. Pascual smiled back. "We'll take you there and to the fruit stand before we head back home. Unless the banditos come as we fear."

I tried to think of what they could do, and I was at a loss, but Sr. Lopes interjected. "Just because we're old , doesn't mean we can't protect you."

_**Several Minutes later….**_

I had to virtually apologize to the that I was surprised, but he cast his weary gaze on me, and was hardly impressed. "I thought I left the village down from here to avoid this sort of treatment. And you're such a nice boy otherwise." I bit my tongue and swallowed my pride. Even if I wanted to lash back and pull rank, I'd have two of the most respected men of this town pull me back home to be disciplined. Discipline? It seems like a funny word. However, the baker reneged with a sigh. "One more stunt like that, and we won't allow you in here. But since this is for your sister, we'll happily oblige!"

"Of course. Gracias Señor Gomez!"

"Prego, Luis…" He smiled back uncharacteristically. After our nice and pleasant visit at the bakery, we headed to the fruit stand ,where I'd get what I needed for my sister.

"Everyone has known you since you were a baby. They just want the best for you." I shrugged to his comment , but agreed.

"I never really think about that, to be honest. I'm usually at home studying."

Señor Lopes balked."Why don't you consider leaving the house more? Travel a bit? Get involved in the community?"

"I like my reading and minding my own business."

"_Luis_," Señor Pereira chided. "We got you out of your shell so you _wouldn't _be in your study."

"And training? You're a soldier, Luis, but you're also a kid. You need to experience your youth until you regret that you never celebrated it." We were just minding our own business in the marketplace , waiting for the most stressful part of my life: buying myself some fruit.

"That'll be 3 Pesos for the mango. And 5 for the peaches." I placed down the eight pesos on the stand and she'd graciously handed me the items in a bag.

"I know it's you, Mr. Posada." We turned our heads and the guards readied their pistols until they seen his disarming smile.

"Señor Pereira, Señor Lopes… it's a pleasure to see you both again." He shook both of their hands while I glanced away.

"Da-Really? "What gave me off, Sr. Sanchez?" I glanced at him. I was elbowed by Pascual and I sighed, but he interjected again and smiled.

"I'm glad those cowards were sent packing." He sternly frowned. "I'm not the one you'll need to apologize you, either. You're going to have to do it yourself."

"Wh-" I received a fierce glare from Señor. "Want me to come to your home for the apology?" I said, in my most genuine voice I could manage. However, I managed to deliver a potentially warming line in such as hollow manner that both retired officers shook their heads. Señor Sanchez, meanwhile, just muttered under his breath, too flustered to mitigate a response. I knew the man was the bravest man right after my Papi, but he never was this indirect with me before. We both walked towards his house, a place I knew all to well. Mostly because Maria used to drag me along there with Manolo when she watched over me. The guards both stood by the doors while we walked into the house.

It was now clear that I'd be walking in the mouth of the beast alone.

"Still unnerved from how-"

"Don't even joke about it. And churros? You're being reckless."

"They're for my Papi." He looked back doubtfully, seeing through the bluff.

"Why are you shopping here? Don't you have servants to do it for you?"

"I only do this because it gets me out of there. I'm going to be getting more formal training in Mexico City and rise in the ranks like my father."

'Why don't you come home with me for a little bit?"

"No. I'm heading back there. It's a discipline thing. And a respect thing."

Sr. Sanchez disagreed. "Which you have neither."

"It will only be a little bit. I promise."

I walked away from him and back through the central plaza until I realized there was a bandito poking his head out. I glanced back at him and he saw the bandit as well.

'Are you going to fight him on an empty stomach?"

"I'm not a coward. I can't let them—" my stomach growled ,only solidifying his point.

"And what good will that do?"

"Just because you gave birth to me doesn't me you can act like you suddenly care!" Without anything more, he dragged me back into his house and shook his arm away.

Casa Sanchez

9:30 AM

"I do care!" said the man that abandoned me.

"No you don't!"

'Now you're acting immature." He said back. "Do you want to wake your brother up? Or my grandmother?"

"Is there a problem in there, Carlos?" I immediately shut up and Carlos sighed.

"No." He immediately grinned and went to sit down at his table. As soon as I sat down, he looked me straight in the eye. "You really don't like this ,do you? " Not offering him a response, he continued on. "I'm not doing this because I enjoy it. I'm your fath…" The moment he said those words, his lips quivered, while his eyes watered. "Er…." He was having trouble saying it, only making me look away. He reached his hand from across the table to my shoulder. "Look at me ,mijo. _Please._"

"Why?"

He took a deep breath and then sighed. "Just please look at me, Luis. I'm not mad at you." The moment I glanced back into his eyes, he lost his train of thought.

"What? "

"It's nothing eyes remind me of your mother…"

"Are you kidding me?"

"I'm not. I hope you don't think I mean ill by that." Sr. Sanchez sighed, taking a sip of black coffee before he placed the mug back on the table. "How about you stay here for breakfast."

'I haven't exactly broken "the schedule" before."

"As long as they're both out there. I doubt General Posada will care. So mijo…you got any crushes?" I instantly flushed red and he smirked like a devil. "Who is it?

"I've known her for a year. She's lived at the church's orphanage."

"Is she?" He got out of his chair and went over to work on breakfast, cracking a few eggs on the skillet, then tossing the shells gingerly away into the garbage can. "You just watch it, your older brother will be a great bullfighter.

"Hi Grandson?" An older lady chimed in, being pushed about by Manolo. He looked sleep deprived, then eyed me with disdain and confusion. Not like I really cared what he thought of me at all.

"Hey…Manolo…"I trailed awkwardly. He sat down at a table and glanced back.

"I accept your apology." He tiredly yawned, before he laughed a bit. "Why're you here at this time? Or up?"

"It's called being abducted. You should try it sometime. Sometimes your captors make you breakfast." The weary bullfighter stared in my direction and kept his glare focused.

"Abducted? I saved you from making a fool out of yourself."

"_Si_. You convinced me that despite having superior training, I'd somehow die from hunger?"

"Superior? You can't even fight like your brother. Or Joaquin."

"Joaquin would _wipe the floor _with Manolo. And make tea during the wiping— "

"Thanks proving my point."

"How about I see him try?" Manolo got amused by the argument, not the focus of one of his father's arguments for once. It didn't make me feel any more confident that I was one.

"How about you try to fight me?" Manolo's father offered, but I couldn't stop grinning. Manolo shook his head, almost knowing what I was going to be getting into, while the older lady didn't seem lucid about the situation either, merely focusing on sewing socks. Sr. Sanchez on the other hand , grew livid, offended by the accusation.

"You think you could win because I'm old? Your old bulfighting father still has a few tricks up my sleeve." Manolo shook his head and I instantly felt a sinking feeling. "I really want to see how my son can fight."

"So you think you can fight me?"

" Mijo, I've slain bulls four times your size." Sr. Sanchez frowned, almost looking like he was about to blow his gasket. Manolo looked towards the window and seen my father''s guards, Sr. Lopes and Sr. Pereira, standing by each window.

Manolo asked. "Who are those guards outside?"

"His guards are old friends of his father's." Sr. Sanchez added while flipping the egg concoction I've never seen before. Though it erred me how he didn't inflect the word with a mock sense of anger, it was more odd how after the older lady said her like spat about me being a Posada, she was strangely quiet..

"You're going to say hi to your grandmother?"

"Oh…"

"Oh?" She darted her spectacled gaze away before she fired her look back. She looked the most honestly angered. "So it's just "Oh?" to me?"

Manolo, like clockwork walked up to me and stared, then went to casually peered into the bag.

"You hate churros and peaches."

"Manolo, you've discovered my devious secret. It's just something I got because I like it."

"You can cut the lying. We all know she''s coming today."

"And you're growing me in between your little love spat with Joaquin."

"Why do you hate the idea of me dating her?"

I laughed back. "To be fair , I hate the idea of _anyone _dating her."

"What about what she wants?"'

"Hopefully she found a guy in Spain. It's like my Papi says. There are plenty of duller women who don't have an independent bone in their body to choose from. Or at least that's my deal basically."

"Dull?"

"I've been seeing a girl anyways. But I fear she's basically off limits."

Carlos wondered "The half German girl? What's the problem with her?"

"He has it in his head I should date someone who's the daughter of _another _general. Or higher. I've met a few of them. And none of them work out really. I'm afraid he would have a problem."

'I wouldn't have a problem. She sounds like a nice girl." Sr. Sanchez smirked, serving us this foreign egg thing. The egg folded around the fillings of ground beef , goat cheese, and a few peppers like an egg taco. I didn't know the word for what this contraption was, but once I tasted it, it was weirdly interesting.

"This is what an omelet is?" I sheepishly asked.

"You never had an omelet before?"

"I didn't know something like this actually existed." My meals are basically more traditional dining. Eggs were par the course, but it was usually rice and something lighter.

_"A breakfast for a soldier should always be proportionate to the energy you'll expend, mijo." _Papi always said. "_It should be simple and get the refueling done in the most efficient of ways. And with your fellow soldiers."_

I'll just have to assume that for my biological family, this is probably a rare treat that I've glimpsed into. And if it were any other family, it would probably be true. Father laughed to himself.

"We have our own goat, and I get a great deal on the beef." His mind then sunk into a dark place as his expression soured.

"You're surprised by it." His eyes filled with concern. "Is it bad?"

He said nothing, and swallowed it. And it made me feel even worse. Manolo looked at me, and then looked towards his..

"It's fantastic and different." I sighed. "I usually stick with plain poached eggs and meat, with rice." I mouthed a little more of the omelet and delighted in this taste and swallowed it. "This thing."

"Omelet." He corrected lightly. "It's called an omelet."

Manolo looked offended , though father was prouder that I loved his breakfast.

"So you're saying what we eat is poorer?"

"It's different."

"Which means its bad?"

"Manolo!" Father chided my older brother. "Luis isn't saying it's anything. He's just saying it's _different."_ Manolo harrumphed, earning a tired look from our father. Granmami kept her eyes on her own omelet, but took a brief moment to glare at Manolo.

"Great-granmami, you can't."

She didn't offer a word, but returned to eat on her own food while Señor glared at my biological brother, none-to pleased with his comment..

"He's your little brother. You may have been raised differently, but he's still our flesh and blood."

"What does that mean, if you mind me asking?" I asked. He immediately bit his tongue and went back cleaning, while Manolo was looking at him with curiosity.

"Manolo, it doesn't mean I'm going to forget if I catch you with those brothers." Seeing this as my chance to test my status as a younger brother with him. I had the perfect thing to ask him.

"Can I chill with them?"

"Of course, mi mijo. When I'm dead." He gravely warned. " And you don't like them either. Don't test me with how much I won't give you a good tongue licking.

'Wha? You're going to lick em….""

"It's an expression."

"He takes things literally, papa."

"To the point is better."

"Did he mean that my father , or me, were somehow inferior?

"Nothing…" He frowned.

I frowned back ."So you're saying that if you adopted me, I'd mean nothing to you?" Father sighed with irritation and covered his face with his right hand.

"That's not what I meant at all. You both act like you're children!"

Manolo snarled. "No, I'm not! He started it." I immediately caught on and kept my mouth shut, trying my hardest to repress the grin, until it became a solemn composure.

"Your little brother is being much more mature than you are right now, considering his past history. And you should look to _him_—" I failed being calm and I snickered. Sr. Sanchez immediately flustered and lost focus while Manolo smirked with self-vindication , then frowned.

"I retract what I said. You're _both_ immature."

"Papa?"

"Father?" Father changed his focus back to me, shocked. Which then changed into something hopeful. Something desperate.

"Did you just call me father?"

"I did?"

"You did." Manolo replied, unenthused and annoyed as he finished the egg thing.

"So I really did? Huh?" I remarked, still trying to process a reaction to the words I just had spoken. I called Sr. Sanchez my father? General Posada's the only father I had. It shouldn't feel so right. And I instantly felt horrible. Was I really shelving the man that was by all purposes the only father I've had in my life? I could feel him move aa bit closer to me, and I felt more confused.

"Any chance you….Could get her to meet us sometime?"

"In the improbable event that everything somehow falls in place to make it possible? Sure." Father and Manolo both became crestfallen by the response, however, grandmother didn't react to it in the slightest. Or so I thought.

"Great-Granmami…"

The eldest Sanchez frowned. "Do you _really _want to hear what's on mi mind, mijo?" After she finished her meal, Granmami wiped her lips and cast a scornful look towards her grandson and no reaction to Manolo in the slightest. But towards me? She gently placed her wrinkled hand on mine and calmly rubbed it. Pleading with her eyes to just drop the conversation. Manolo seemed to have finally had it.

"Because I will infect her?"

"I don't like either of you, looking at my sister like some prize. I find _that_ to be messed up."

"You never liked me. Be honest. You've always looked down on me!"

"Not like I went out of my way to hurt you." I nonchalantly shrugged back. "I hope she found a decent man in Europa to bring back."

Great granmami asked. "A decent man?" How is your older brother not decent enough?"

"Being decent is only half. Obviously _my brother is_ going to be some mariachi. And money will always be a burden either way to look at it."

"Manolo will _not _be a mariachi. Don't say that."

"I'm only pointing out the clear facts. How will you support her? Bullfighting's decent. Your family—" I have to emphasize this. I can't be too comfortable with these people. I _still _have a family to return to. Even if I felt comfortable, it still stung when I called Señor Sanchez my father. He was a personal hero of mine, but that was it. A hero. He could have kept me, but he abandoned me. It wasn't Carlos who kept a watchful eye over me when I had night terrors. It wasn't Carlos who raised me , fed me and did everything in his darnedest to keep me safe and happy. General Posada was my Papa. And that's why I felt violated by my own words by giving such a man a title. _Father._ What a joke.

Manolo begged to differ. "Our—" I could see Sr. Sanchez's heart instantly break, although I bet he was fleetingly clinging onto any morsel of hope that I would explain myself. But I was in shock and fear.

'"_Your _family has a great reputation even in Europa for bullfighting. Bullfighting doesn't just have to be here. From what little I could read from my sister…the market's big for your talents. Maybe even bring along your Mariachi groupies—" Sr. Sanchez didn't bother getting to the conversation, instead grabbing dishes to wash them. We could hear him slightly cry, but Manolo began to glare before his eyes met mine. Then he was unsure as well.

"They're my _friends_. They were your friends as well. And how do I know you're not lying?"

"Because I lie? Please."

"You lied to me all the time."

"You're gullible." Great-granmami took issue with my comment.

"Since when is being gullible excuse you to take advantage? If you say that it's because you're better, I'm not talking to you."

"It's because I'm apparently a Pos—" Without hesitation, as she was about to interjecy ,the guards barged in through the door.

"Sir, there are three of them."

"You didn't believe I do that? I was a bullfighter back then."

"Seriously… I need to get back out there to fight."

"And get yourself killed?"

"So?"

"You're my great grandson and I won't let you." I held her in my arms and she didn't budge. Instead she smiled and I blushed. "Carry me?"

"Ok. Sure. Where?"

"To my room. Then… you can take me outside in the plaza so I can see you fight that bandito—"

"Mami?"

"Great-Granmami?"

Sr. Lopes balked. "Lady Sanchez?"

'Oh cut it , you _three," _She snarked back. I want to see some action that isn't lightning hitting a bull Manolo should've killed." Manolo's face dimmed and his shoulders collapsed under a wave of shame, while my biological father's face paled in horror. "Don't worry about your son he can fight him jus' fine." She turned her questioning glance back towards me. "Can you?"

"Of course." I scratched behind my head.

"He hasn't." Sr. Lopes corrected to my frustration. "Your father wants you to be safe.

"You haven't fought?" She sighed. "This will be entertaining still. Let's go!" I took her back to where she pointed to me and took her to the room, and she rested on her bed.

"I haven't met you before. You look exactly like your mother." I allowed her to touch my hair and she brushed her hands through it, smirking with delight with giggles interspersed. It was rare for her to do either. "Why're you letting me play with your hair?"

"I dunno. You seem to like it."

"I've never touched your head of hair since you were a baby. Your older brother was bald, but you? It was long. We would've thought you were a girl if we didn't know any better. Not like that would've stopped you anyways…"

"You really were a bullfighter?"

"Best bullfighter of my generation!"She bragged. "I really wished you were a girl… but you're named after my son. So it all pans out. Why couldn't your older brother be more like you? I know you're sweet. You can fight…or I hope you can fight. Because if not…you'll just die…Then you held me like my husband did…"

"Oh..'

"Please no tell either of your fathers this. I don't want to be found weak!" Once she got finished resting, I picked her up once again, gently placed her in the wheelchair. Then wheeled her out by the plaza. Not to my surprise, Señor Sanchez was standing out there waiting, while Manolo eyed me with curiosity.

"You're going to fight all of them? Joaquin?"

'Is a fool." I pulled out a couple daggers ,span them in both hands, then jumped into the fray.

"Who are you?"

"Son of Posada!" I stabbed the one dagger through his hand and pinned him to a brick wall. He tried yanking it out and cursed. I punched him across the face and then in the opposite direction , before I felt a swiping of a sword slash right behind my head.

"What in the heck?"

"You're not interesting, mijo. Wait." I dropped to the ground and sideswiped him off his feet, removed the sword from his hand. Then cast it on the ground.

"Thanks for the workout! I love it! " I taunted back.

"You sick!"

'Sick people bully merchants and regular working people!" I pulled a rope from a belt and tied the middle aged bandits' wrists together disarming him at once. Out of earshot, I shot one of the retreating bandits in the knee and tackled him. He squirmed, but nonetheless was helpless.

"I'm taking you for interrogation. I should get juicy details from you. And because you made me late. Shame on you. What are you again?" The bandito, with dirtied face, wild mustache and frizzled unkempt hair scattered to the sides under the sombrero trained his glance into a glare.

"Such arrogance…you are the son of the General." I scowled, not taking the crass comment lightly.

"He isn't arrogant. You don't know my father- "

I strung him along with the other prisoners and the townspeople cheered my name. I glanced back across the fountain where Granmami , Manolo and Sr. Sanchez were. They were gone. "Oh well." I retrieved the bag of peaches and churros and walked back to the house. I knocked on the door, and instantly, the door shot open.

"Mijo, where were…. Who're these people?"

"A few of the people left behind that I roped up. You're right, Papi. This is fun."

"You did a good thing and you say it's fun? You got peaches?" He smirked knowingly and a servant grabbed the bag and hoisted it to my sister's room. The trio of prisoners were befuddled and glared at me with contempt.

Try getting info out of them… but don't feed or quench their thirst."

"I know. Only _animal_ blood will suffice." I half joked. The bandits didn't find it funny I compared them to vampires. But what the heck? I was on a roll. Not only did I fight and capture these people, I got to meet an interesting woman as well. A female Sanchez bullfighter. How much more awesome can there be than that ? Nevertheless, I was left with the floor to do as I pleased and I cracked my knuckles. I turned back towards them and smirked with a sadistic grin, wide enough for my teeth to form into metaphorically pointed knives. Despite this, the banditos were displeased.

"We're not afraid of you!" I flashed out my dagger and stabbed it in his arm. He tried to conceal his pain ,but he was whimpering. I could see it in his eyes.

"Here's the thing. You're already dead in Chakal's eyes. So start singing and give me precisely what to do."

"Not one bit. "

'I have resources. I could find your family and give them all horrible ends. And no one will care because of who I am in comparison to whatever crack in the wall you crawled out of."

"I'm still trying to find a reason why we should tell you anything." The second one snarled. "You would kill my wife and children?"

"I know you have a wife, but they died from typhoid and the Influenza. I'm very sorry to hear that…."

"No you're not. I no have family anymore. And chur gloating' like a kid in a candy store."

"They deserved to live over filth like you!"

"We're filth? Chu jus' enjoy giving pain. We didn't hurt anyone."

"Of course you didn't. And no revisionism is going to make me regret that decision-""

"We'll tell you…" The third more elderly of the trio croaked . "Only if you help our families." I rolled my eyes and laughed.

"Which don't exist…"

"I jus' married dis woman last year so I could take care of her childrens…I can show ya pictures of them.

"How about you show me-" The pleading look from the beggar old man gave e pause and reconsidered. "Pull it out of mi pocket." I got the wallet and browsed through the pictures. Genuine love between a father, mother and her children-

"You all stay here-"

"Whatever old men . You can stay here all you like-" The youngest one scrambled out, but the older man stayed put. He didn't have much of a choice. And it confused me.

"When chur childrens or wives die, chu lose da will ta live…Why haven't chu tortured us?"

"Torture doesn't get things out, unless I really wanted to eb towards my psychotic side? Maybe… but no-I got something else in mind" I smiled back. The two eyed each before staring back. "_What is it?_"

"I like the idea of personal slaves-"

"Anything to get my families safe here."

"Si."

'Why're you fraternizing with the?" He stared at me and sighed. I sworn you told me it were three."

'The third one got lucky. He'll most likely get killed from the utterance of a deal. Father, we can get enough information from them…They can be a valuable ally.'

"And Sergio? I remember you. He took you away 14 years ago…"

"General?"

"You were my comrade in war,…he's basically your uncle, mijo. He can stay."

"What about me?"

"As my son, said, you can be his slave." The middle aged bandito eyed displeasurable and I smiled in turn. He kept a weary eye and sighed as he followed me up the stairs ,dragging his feet as he did .

"What es it chu want me to do? Cleaning the manure from your horse? Cook chu dinner? Read to chu?" He eyed my personal study and his mouth went agape with wonder. "Si… da classics." He pulled out a book of Aesop's Fables and looked at it intently, instead of the war books I expected him to pick out. "Ah…Back when I was ah teacher, I'd get my students to read these. I never thought I'd see it dis big."

"This big?"

"Si. Chu have ah library dat is da size of a middle school's at home."

"Who's Aesop again? I've only touched the military section." The former teacher and former bandito eyed me with disappointment."

'Aesop? Homer?"

"Who's a Homer?" The bandito shook his head and sighed to himself.

"Ay, yi , yi. I no see tutor." He said out loud. "How long have chu not had one?"

"Since I was 9. I would've had one if they came here alive…" The bandito removed his ragged sombrero and placed it on the desk, only eyeing me with slight recognition.

"Chu remind me of a friend I had in Miracle City a while back. I barely remember now who I was going ta tutor here…" He sighed, then rested the Aesop's Fable book back on the desk. "I heard da child was brilliant and had a papi in da military…oh well. I heard he was looking forward to me….I suppose I can teach chu. I'll jus' have ta clean off."

"Mijo, someone's waiting down here!"

"What's your name?"

"Octubre?"

'You're Señor Octubre?" The bandito glanced with worry and frowned.

"Chu're da boy. What are chu doin' fighting like dat? Chu could get churself killed."

"Someone has to protect the town."

Señor Octubre fiercely disagreed. "Chu're inexperienced and most importantly ,chu lack a proper education."

'I should tell my father you're finally here!" I warmly hugged the bandito and he pat my back twice.

"Go down d'ere before chu get in more trouble, Señor."

Sr . Octubre chuckled halfheartedly.

Once the boy left down the stairs, the former bandito broke down and groaned. A single glance into a small mirror bordering the other wall. He looked at his reflection with disgust. He was a short shell of an educator. A pathetic, crusty excuse of a man that looked twice his age. His skin now had a sickly green hue that made him look ogre-like. His suit, once a formal grey suit with a white shirt and tie was now faded, muddied and tattered. Furthermore, his onyx black hair and beard hung low over the shoulders with streaks of grey hairs down the sides of his head as well as a strip down the middle of the lip. obfuscating any class his tattered uniform might have once presumed he used to have. In no uncertain terms the bandito looked like and smelled like a personification of a skunk.

_Maybe it was my curse to look like dis. I failed to be dere for my student. I was weak. I deserve to be hideous._

The old teacher cried to himself and sat behind the desk, wiping the tears away when he read a note left on the desk.

_"Sr.. Octubre, _

_Im looking forward to you teaching me. I should've been a little bit more respectful against you and I should've recognized you. Can't wait until I take your classes and learn more. Especially about this Aesop guy. He sounds interesting._

_Anyways, the servants should be able to clean you up well. But even if you didn't, I've been hungry to know more."_

The former bandito sat the note on the desk and two servants looked through in the room. The boy really did look forward to his presence.

"Master Octubre…"

He looked towards the two servants, who were women…

_Of course he loves them. He's a teenage boy. "_

The moment I finally came down the stairs, I looked towards a tall brunette man in a blue suit covered in various medals .He smiled aback and I returned the grin.

"You've grown ,little champ."

"I'm not little."

"You'll come into it." He smiled back, playfully ruffling my hair. "I heard you captured some bandidos?"

"About that?"

'What about the one you're talking to?"

"Turns out he's Senior Octubre?"

"_The _Señor Octubre?"

"He was captured or coerced."

"I'll see who he is." He replied. Papi sighed and looked back at him.

Papi frowned. "That shouldn't be necessary."

"Trust me. Your mustache is still as small as ever. At least it's real." I grinned back, causing the lumbering young man to fall down.. "

"Ay." He sighed to himself. "I shouldn't blame you. Aren't you the devious one?" He cackled proudly and roped me in. "You're taking a liking to your old man , mijo. I can't wait till your sister comes at the station. How about you pick her up?"

"Really? That'd be great-" I ran out of the door and noticed Joaquin slumped under a pole. He stared at me for a moment , but then looked away. I approached him.

"Please don't get a step closer. I can't take this right now." Joaquin whimpered.

"I wasn't supposed to say anything?"

"Of course. That and your sister. I just wish you liked me enough to be a brother in law."

"I disliked both evenly."

"You can always tag along with us later." He got bak on his feet and wiped away the dust before he hugged me. I tried to resist it, but I hugged him back.

"You know very well its a secret. It's like how you sent your sister to Spain because you wanted more attention."

"Oh please."I mocked. He turned his glance at me and he wasn't impressed.

"Is this how you build yourself up?"

"Oh come on. tell me you haven't done the same."

"I don't enjoy it. are you still picking on Manolo? Because if you are—"

"He's a disease. I steer _clear _from him." I walked away from him before he could finish his sentence and followed the way towards the train station. Joaquin was still shouting.

"I'm not finished with you!" He yelled, trailing behind me on his horse before he was on the side.

"Can this wait until I get her back?"

"Sí.." He frowned. "Don't think you can use your older sister as a way to avoid talking to me."

I kept walking to the train station and got out my pocket watch. 15 minutes to 12. _She should be here any time now…_

On clockwork, the train pulled back in and unsurprisingly, my sister finally got off the train. She was in a simple colonial dress, her hair held back into a ponytail, holding a pig. Four servants surrounded and her other stuff off , but she laser focused her eyes on me.

'Luis." She ran to me and embraced me. "I've missed you so much." We both walked down back to town. It was a bit windier than usual, blowing the sand in the air."

"Where's that pig you got? Finally made into pork-chops? How he taste-"

"Chuy _is my friend._" The pig ran by her side and frowned, only diverting it gaze on rubbing against Maria's leg. "Are you still jealous we never took you with us?"

'Why'd I be jealous? You people got into trouble all the time. Not to mention Manolo's still a wrenching point of disappointment."

"Maybe I'd take you out if you weren't so immature. And leave Manolo _out of this._" She snapped. "What have you done here?"

"I captured banditos and got you some things you missed."

"Like _what?_"'

I smiled back, undeterred. "It's a surprise!'

'And knowing it's from you, a surprise means you'll just get me into trouble again. Just because you're a boy, and just because you're my little brother, doesn't mean you're better than me. Or my friends."

"Why can't we just spend time together?"

'What did you do?" my glance away told her otherwise."

Why did father send you out here?"

"I don't know why now. But I got you peaches and churros?"

"You ordered it or.."

I nodded "I picked it up myself. It's in your room." We managed to make out way to the town quicker than I expected, and I wiped the sweat from my forehead. It was almost noon.

"I thought you were going to wear a decent dress. Now I feel like I overdressed."

"Overdressing? You?" she chuckled to herself. "How has being tutored been-" I darted my eyes and away and sighed. "What happened?"

"Well…we thought he got killed while coming here. But he was enslaved by Chakal's army. I captured him." I said with beaming pride. I'll have to check his hand that I stabbed when I was fighting him.'

Train Station, Outskirts

San Angel

11 AM

My sister looked at me with horror. "You _stabbed _a guy? Glad he's fine, and that you're not bullfighting."

I scowled back. "I'm very sure we're complete opposites. That would've been a dream. Following in Sr. Sanchez footsteps and being in the ring." I felt sadder than usual with this subject. But that's mainly just because I was so close. Now I resented Sr. Sanchez. He would've let me bullfight if he raised me. I would've been able to learn under him. See how he fought. And furthermore? It wouldn't be as complicated as right now. I'd just be his son and he'd be—what the hell am I thinking?

"Are you okay?"

I sighed back "I don't know."

"You can always tell me anything, ok? You're my brother. Is he okay?"

"Yeah. I disinfected it and—"

"Did father tell you not to?"

"He did. Guess we're the same after all." Maria withheld a chuckle before she looked back, unfolding her umbrella. She held a briefcase and that was basically it. No entourages of servants at her every whim, nor even a fancy dress. Just Maria. As always. I sadly sighed. "Dad's gonna be disappointed." And like that, my older sister immediately scowled.

"You thought I'd be in some fancy dress fawning over you for attention? Asking you to do every _single thing _for me?"

"Thank God. I wasn't in the mood. After all the times Father's tried to arrange a marriage."

"How about I guess? They were all like me and didn't take your crap?" I couldn't help but laugh, leaving Maria even more bewildered. "So you _did_ miss me, hermano?" We headed down the hall

"Actually? I wish they were. At least they'd have some kind of personality." I

"Or you got interested…Luis…you better be honest…."

"When haven't I been honest?" Maria laughed bitterly at the sentiment, then bitterly frowned.

"When you sent me to Spain. I can't believe you did that to me."

"You didn't? You got all the attention."

"He spoiled you with everything. " Maria shot back, tired of the conversation. "Luis…let's just get home so I can freshen up before we go to the bullfighting arena."

"Yeah…Manolo's going to get slaughtered out there-"

"What's _with _you?" Maria yelled. "Why can't you just get along with him?"

'Why should I? You have a crush on him-"

"I don't know-"

"So you met no new men in Europe? That sucks. I was hoping you'd bring some civilization here."

"As if you're living in the wilderness….seriously. Why can't you ever be happy?"

Casa Sanchez

11 AM

Manolo had his guitar strapped behind his back and ready to head out of the door, while Carlos sat in the room he held vigil for his departed wife. By him was his mother, who was knitting something with her needles again. Carlos's son was playing a soft tune in the corner and shut his eyes.

"Why did we go back? It was getting good."

"He's just showboating. One thing to be a hero, but another than that."

The great grandmother briefly smirked. "He no experienced. Did well." Eyeing her eldest grandson with discontent, making her tone clearest for the boy to understand.

"It's not because he did well. Luis is a baby. I can't let him get hurt like that."

"Wait a minute. Why is it different for him, Papa?"

"Si, Carlos. He can handle himself out there."

"He's not your responsibility. It's Posada's-" Carlos was still unconvinced, so his grandmother leaned towards him. "The last thing you want to do is be like that. I can see he's already a bullfighter in the making. He wanted to do it to begin with. "

"Bullfighter? He's probably the only one I don't want to be a bullfighter. I discouraged him myself."

"Why?"

Villa Posada

11:15 AM

"Why?" Maria asked. We were back home. After cleaning up, we were already ready. As I placed on my boots, I was spotted in my room by Señor Octubre, who was whistling a happy folk tune. He must've walked through the village while I was gone. Good for him.

Señor Octubre smiled. "You jus' missed chur father. She's going to be late."

"Why don't you come?" My teacher instantly frowned, and I was bewildered.

Señor frowned at the idea. "Bullfighting is a disgusting sport. I don't see da thrill of killing animals. And neither do they."

"Trust me. Manolo's not killing anything." I reassured, as I put on my daggers strap under the sleeves. "It'll be him dodging and running away from it."

"So you enjoy watching him suffer?"

"Don't act like you're surprised. It's like you said. I'm _sadistic. _It's what you expect." I shot back, as Iwalked past him out the door. "Bullfighting's more than that. The rhythm and movements. The speed?" I laughed with a tone of bitterness underscoring each chuckle. "You don't understand that.

"Wait. I'll come. Just don't expect me to stay if there's any goring." He warned. I met my sister in the hall and looked at her, she was still in the same dress, but she put on some perfume that was different. Something I haven't smelled since forever.

It smelled like mom's.

"Is that?"

Maria grinned. "I knew you'd remember that. What's bothering you?" I took on a fake smile.

"I should tell you this after… I don't want to ruin your day-"

"That's lovely….what is it?"

'Well…."

"I didn't want to get too close to him, being my son and all." Carlos sighed. "He couldn't handle it then…but he's barely handling it right now. He hates me."

"He no hate you…."Carlos eyed his grandmother, whom did not break away from her knitting. "He does. You denied bonding with him, so he became even closer to his father."

"But I _am_ his father."

"That's not how he sees it. "Manolo added before he readied his swords in their hilts.. "When do we get this bullfighting over with?"

And with that, Carlos was left crestfallen as he and his grandmother left for the arena. Meanwhile, Manolo was stirring at home when he came across an item on the table. He grabbed it and looked at it. It was Luis's locket.

He opened it up, and it was a family picture of all four family members, with Luis not yet born. He felt tears drop down his eyes , closed the locket and placed it in his pocket.

"My little brother." Manolo sighed. "I'll be the torero you need."

With renewed optimism, Manolo felt he had to go slay that bull. Not just for Maria, or for his family, but for him. He had to be his brother's hero, no matter what. With that said, Manolo exited the house and rushed to the arena. Today was his day to fight the bulls. This would be the day he would make his family proud, and prove he was worthy of his brother and more importantly, of Maria's hand.


End file.
